Two Lady Scoundrels and a Duke - Tessa Candle Page 0,44

were of little consequence. Her instincts told her not to discuss the cave matter with Rosamond until she had spoken to Frobisher. “But I hope those two will be plotting some way they might effectively see Lord Auchdun off. I am conscious of the blight I have brought upon your serenity here, for it is clear now that Auchdun intends to make himself as irksome as possible. He approached me on my walk, if you can imagine.”

“The trespasser!” Rosamond almost spat. “Frobisher expressly forbid his ever returning here again.”

Eleanor was amused by the moral indignation of a woman who had spent a good deal of her young life embroiled with criminal enterprises, but checked her tongue from making some dry observation about this fact. “Yes, indeed. Very badly done. Only Auchdun assured me he had the best of excuses—his undying passion for me and his need to throw his heart at my feet and beg for my hand, or some such rubbish. I cannot quite recollect the precise arrangement of his idiocy.”

Rosamond huffed in disgust. “Oh, I know his kind. So violently in love that they cannot render the object of their affection the tiniest courtesy of respecting her wishes. You refused him, I hope.”

Eleanor kept her face completely straight. “Oh no, I accepted. We should like to have the wedding here tomorrow, if it is not too much of an imposition. But even if it is, Lord Auchdun—Dunny as I like to call him—is already making plans as to how we may insinuate ourselves and all our guests into your great room for the event.”

Rosamond collapsed onto a méridienne amid peals of laughter.

Thus encouraged, Eleanor continued. “You needn’t worry about the expense of wine and like refreshments. My future husband does not approve of strong drink. So temperate and charming is my Honey-Dunny. I have invited him to come over this evening so that he might entertain us all by reading from Fordyce’s Sermons.”

Rosamond was now gasping for air. “Stop! I beg of you!”

Eleanor smiled. It was so beguiling to have a friend who understood her sense of humour. Among the ladies of the ton she had been so generally greeted with misunderstanding, or even whispered disapprobation at her tendency to be odiously satirical, that she found herself avoiding female company almost entirely. Lady Goodram was a notable exception.

And the men were not much better. Those who were not making themselves nuisances by trying to marry her were often too stupid to be any kind of company. Except at the card table, of course. Stupidity was an ideal trait in any adversary at cards.

But no artifice was necessary with Rosamond. She was sharp witted and humorous—and more than a little irreverent.

“Rosamond,” she spoke seriously all of a sudden, “I know I keep repeating myself about how grateful I am...”

“You have already said so, many times. But truly, having you here is a treat.”

Eleanor so wanted Rosamond to understand what she was feeling. “But beyond mere gratitude, I am so happy to have found a new friend with whom I can be myself. I do not meet many such in society.”

Rosamond reached out and took both her hands, squeezing them. “I hope you will stay here a very long time—even after Auchdun clears out. And that is pure selfishness on my part, for I am charmed to have found someone with whom I share such sympathy. Our very different backgrounds do not seem to matter. Perhaps it is because but I too have felt myself an outsider in society.” She shrugged. “That is mostly my fault. It is hard to make meaningful connections with the people one is deceiving.”

Eleanor nodded. When Rosamond spoke of their differing backgrounds, she contrasted Eleanor’s situation as the daughter of a duke. But Eleanor’s mother… Well, if Rosamond knew of her mother’s circumstances, she never betrayed a hint of it. But so far as the ton was concerned, Eleanor was as tainted as Rosamond. They were only rescued from ruination by the titled men in their lives.

“And yet, your background makes you interesting. With your wit and beauty, and now your rank, you could be the toast of London, if you wanted.”

Rosamond snorted in that unladylike way that had charmed Eleanor even before she knew her very well. “But I would still have to listen to all the spiteful witches whispering behind their fans.”

Eleanor’s heart clenched in sympathy. Perhaps Rosamond did not realize how well Eleanor understood what she was talking about. No, she must